𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒍𝒆 | ✔

17 | One Friend to Another

LOTTIE PULLED UP alongside the curb, stepped outside, and paused. As the sun shone on her face, she closed her eyes and smiled. So far, so good. After opening them, she noted the snow sprinkled around, sure to melt. And up ahead, side-by-side, were two vehicles. One was her friend's; the other was a stranger's. 

Lottie stiffened, making way for the door. She knocked twice, firm but respectful. 

Footsteps shuffled on the other side. The door opened with a creak. 

Her smile returned. "Hazel, so nice to see you!"

Her friend beamed back. "Lottie!" She leaned in, giving a tight squeeze. 

After parting, Lottie looked to her feet, then back at her. "I'm sorry about the random call. I just figured it could be fun."

"Oh, don't apologize! We've been working together for three years. It was about time we hung out." She shifted aside, gesturing her in. "Don't be shy."

Lottie gave her a passing nod. "I saw that car. Who else is here?"

"Just my parents."

"Ah." 

A green-tinted mat was laid out at the door. It read 'We're Glad You're Here' in thick letters. 

"That's a nice rug." Lottie smirked, then observed further. "And this is a nice hallway."

The hallway gave off a minimalist vibe: simple, elegant, and clean. The floors were wooden, shined over, and the walls were a pure white. Several picture frames, held in by nails, were displayed over them. 

"I see you have a thing for art." She wandered over to the nearest frame. In a wonderful era of blue, black, and grey, a ship was painted in the midst of a downpour. The crew was rushing about, helpless, while the captain only watched from down below. "Who made this?"

"Oh, just my mom," Hazel said, nonchalant. "She made all of these."

Lottie's breath hitched. "Really? I thought this was some famous artist."

"Well, she's always practicing, perfecting her pieces. Of course, her natural talent helps, too."

"Y'know, you could make some real money from these."

"You think I don't know that?" She laughed. "Mom just wants them to be enjoyed how they're meant to be enjoyed. If somebody buys them, they might not care for it... or worse."

"What could be worse them that?"

Hazel crossed her arms. "It might be kept in a box, abandoned. That way, not even the guests could enjoy it." A sigh. "They might as well destroy the painting itself!"

"I didn't realize you cared so much about art," Lottie returned. "You must have got that from your mother."

"Ah, yes," Hazel said, smiling. "I remember when I was little, I'd beg for her to hurry. She paints slowly, after all, but I just wanted to see the end result. Whenever she'd finish, I would rush her on the next, never appreciating what she made."

"Kids are like that."

"Yeah, but one day Mom pulled me aside... She taught me a lesson that day."

Lottie tilted her head, mulling it over. "And what was that?"

"She taught me that quality takes time." Hazel nodded, stiff. "I've held onto that lesson ever since."

"I see."

"It doesn't just apply to art, though." Hazel looked her over, eyes kind. "It also applies to hardships. With time, the storm will always pass and you'll learn from it. All it takes is patience."